A Lesson On Rebellion
by realtrashwriting
Summary: For SoMa Week 2019: For someone who started off convinced he'd become a rebel, he's sure come a long way.


**SoMa Week 2019, Day 3: stay**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater**

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**A Lesson On Rebellion**

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The moment Soul had left the huge, empty house he'd called home for 12 years, he became dedicated to being a rebel, to be the most defiant child anyone had ever seen. It wasn't hard. He looked at a rule and did the exact opposite. He wore his clothes the way he'd seen in magazines and took his peers' advice (with limits, as he couldn't exactly take Black*Star's word for everything). Every effort to destroy the image of "Soul Evans" was successful with the creation of "Soul Eater". He blended into Death City like a champ. There were plenty of other rowdy rule-breakers that garnered far more attention than he did, and Soul stayed safety nestled between "cool enough to speak out of turn and be interesting" and "not loud enough to get himself in any lasting trouble".

Arguably, this state did not last very long, because soon Soul was a partner to a girl who was headstrong and brilliant and very interested in him listening to what she had to say. And even though she was by the book, strict and responsible and rule-driven, she did things that were _so dangerous_ that Soul was certain they were illegal. She was the only one that complicated things, that forced him to contradict everything he'd thought rebellion should, that completely changed the trajectory of his life with a simple request.

When she asked him to wait for her after school, he did. When she demanded an extra hour of training, they remained in the sparring ring until the school closed. Whenever she told him it was time for dinner, he stopped what he was doing and obeyed. He was ready to do anything she asked of him at any time (he still did, really) but, in the beginning, a part of him hated it. Sometimes he felt like he was back at home, resenting his parents for forcing him to sit at the piano for hours, to attend concerts in stuffy suits with people more interested in his parents than his personality. He was sick of obedience, and partnering with Maka seemed to demonstrate how his freedom could be taken away in a new setting.

But the more time he spent with her, the more he realized that their arrangement wasn't quite the same as he'd thought. He knew with distinct clarity that there was a difference, a big difference, between the life his parents expected of him and the expectations of his partner. Maka could say all she wanted about being his meister, about being the lead, about being the final say in any decision, but they both knew it wasn't true. They were a team, Soul having just as much say in their partnership as she did. He could guide them into battle with a strategy that would succeed. He could choose the mission.

He could say _no_. He had that ability, beautiful as it was. He'd _said_ "no" to Maka before. Just to try it. To see what she'd say.

Rebellion with Maka was anticlimactic the first time. It had been over something small, insignificant. Something that, when he really thought about it, his parents would have pushed for regardless of its meaning. He'd waited to see her anger, the way she'd blow up, the way she'd force him through it anyway with threats. Instead, she'd blinked at him and said, "Okay." Slowly, steadily, year by year, he tried to marry his desire to rebel with her stubbornness. His refusal to do as she asked earned him varied reactions depending on its importance. He didn't always agree with her, they still fought from time to time, but it had been easy in the beginning to put a voice to his rebellion. Disobedience accompanied exhilaration in his veins, and he pushed back from all her attempts to connect, to resonate, to be _partners_. He'd rejected the notion of closeness, both big and small, and it hadn't been long before he realized that he was no longer saying "no" just for the sake of it, just because he'd selfishly decided he didn't want to do something.

Being Maka's weapon meant that he had to learn when to pick his battles. And learn he did. He was able to recognize when he ought to speak up, to argue, to say "no, we shouldn't go after them" or "no, we're not ready". Soul learned rebellion in a different way. It was less about gaining his freedom and more about protecting the freedom they had cultivated together. The precious peace of their home could not be saved if he was agreeing with Maka all the time, or if he followed her into battle blindly. He could not do a good job of protecting his meister if he did not know when to reign her in.

Which was really the whole point, wasn't it? Because saying "no" to Maka, really refusing her wishes, was one of the most difficult things he'd learned to do. More than anything, he didn't _want_ to say "no" to her. He knew that he had the power to, that Maka would respect his choice to do so (or at least, respectfully agreed to disagree). Saying "no" would not destroy their partnership. But he wanted to be the person Maka came to rely on, to seek comfort from, to understand her in a way that nobody else could. If he could be that for her, he would be.

It was so much easier and made him so much happier to agree with her. To comply with her desires, to please her, was all he'd come to want. And of all the things she could ask of him, he realized that the one he'd never be able to deny was the simplest of her requests. All she had to do was ask him to stay, and any alternatives disintegrated. This was one thing he didn't need to think twice about, regardless of whether she'd been scared awake by a nightmare or was merely lonely on cold, winter days. There are things in this world, he learned, that beg to be answered with an enthusiastic yes. And who was he to deny her of something he wanted as well?

Being with Maka made him a better person, a better everything. She challenged him, lifted him up, literally cleansed his soul on the daily. Staying with her was a no-brainer. Leaving her was not an option, had never been one. "Stay with me," she'd said years ago, her palm wide open, as if a mere handshake would form the binding contract that was being a weapon-meister pair in practice rooms of Shibusen's music hall. He hadn't refused her, had instead accepted her request, her promise of success and companionship, with his eyes wide open, even if he didn't fully know what he was getting himself into with her. She'd asked him for his presence, his loyalty, his _soul_, and he'd agreed.

And years from now, when he'd ask her for the same courtesy with no contract but their words and a ring, she'd smile and say _yes_ with the familiar, loving expression on her face that he'd grown accustomed to. Staying with him, she'd say, was something she'd always agree to.


End file.
